


Baleful Beetle

by TheKahootOfEverything



Category: Little Nightmares (Video Game)
Genre: Afterlife, Arachnophobia, Biology Inaccuracies, Biting, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Canon Compliant, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dreams and Nightmares, Drowning, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired By Little Nightmares, Murder, NSFW, Swordplay, Vaginal Sex, Very AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 20:15:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30060975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKahootOfEverything/pseuds/TheKahootOfEverything
Summary: Wishing to cure himself of his nightmares, Dennis goes to great lengths to overcome his fears and find out what his nightmares mean.
Relationships: Mono & Six (Little Nightmares)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 12





	1. The Endless Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Doceo_Percepto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doceo_Percepto/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Arachnid](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28005501) by [Doceo_Percepto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doceo_Percepto/pseuds/Doceo_Percepto). 



> If you wish to contact me, I’m TheKahootOfEverything on Tumbler and @TheBestPigMain on Twitter.
> 
> If you want to contact the creator of Arachnid, the story I am basing my fan fiction off of, his Tumbler is doceopercepto
> 
> I highly recommend you read the story of Arachnid first, as the events of this story are highly dependent on the events of Mono and Six.

The fog is thick, It's everywhere and grey, impossible to see through. The air is cold and heavy, each breath taken stabs the lungs with ice. That doesn't matter though, the ground is empty, filled with water. The water feels familiar, warm and inviting; the water asks you to stop struggling. There's nothing to stand on, if there was land under all the water then it would be too deep to try and push off of. Dennis is in the water, he is trying to find land, he feels the water pushing him backwards, he feels the water trying to drag him down, he feels like he's going to die. The water is up to his neck; he doesn't know how much longer he’ll last.

  
He’s naked, his body feels smooth and relaxed despite the fear and confusion racking his body. He pushes past those emotions and keeps swimming forward. It's a battle to breathe, staying above the water is nearly impossible and the air hurts his lungs; he can feel his arms getting weaker, It's getting harder to swim. The waves of the sea keep splashing his face, blurring his vision even more.

  
His feet feel rocks, land almost; his hopes begin to rise. His mind goes to ease as he feels himself walk on rocks, they jab his feet. He doesn't care about the pain, he's not drowning anymore. He keeps walking on glass, ignoring the pain his feet are enduring, and sees land. He walks onto the beach, the fog obscures everything but a small light in the distance. His feet are soothed by the cold sand, but bleed as it's salty lips kiss his stabbed soles. His body aches and burns as the cold air pierces his lungs. He keeps walking, his entire body feels like collapsing but he goes onwards.

  
The light suddenly disappears; he's left alone in complete darkness. His breaths increase rapidly, he's terrified. He tries to yell but nothing comes out, his throat is dry and hoarse. There's something on the beach, the sand shifts as he stands completely motionless, paralized even.

  
He looks to the left; _It’s to the right._ He shifts his body backwards; _It’s faster than his eyes._ His head spins and frantically searches the fog; _It’s surrounding him._

He holds his breath to calm himself; the air keeps moving. His neck is warm, his body tenses up and eyes stay straight. He closes his eyes; the beach is vast and unknown, running would be pointless. He breathes again, there's no point in trying to play dead. He opens his eyes to see another pair returning his gaze, they are filled with black with a thin brown perimeter. He can faintly see four arms reside near the eyes, but the body is indistinguishable.

  
It’s a spider.

  
Her hands move towards him, slow and calculated. Her fingertips touch his back and slowly shove him forward. She shows her teeth, lines of sharp daggers appear in a crooked smile.

  
She’s drooling.

  
He’s walking towards her, not voluntarily. Her mouth seems to open wider, either that or he’s getting too close. He smells it, _Death._ Her mouth stinks with the smell of blood and acid. Everything is black, and then he feels it. _Venom._

He screams, his voice piercing the quiet night. She sinks a tooth into his shoulder and the venom starts spreading immediately. His arm shakes rapidly without reason; accidentally falling onto another tooth. His right arm is immobilized in an instant as he feels more teeth enter his back. He slouches over as his chest is impaled with more teeth, the last thing he feels is his body being torn in two.

  
His eyes dart open as he shoves himself upwards, the world is coming back to him now. He looks around his room, everything is still but he feels as if everything is in perpetual motion. He feels cold despite his giant warm blankets, January was coming to an end and so was the cold.

  
He leaves his bed to get water, to clear his mind. He slips on a cotton shirt to ensure that he stays warm in the cold and dark night. There's a pump not far from his cottage, once he gets there he can wash himself up. He's been to this water pump many times, some in day but most at night; he could walk there with his eyes closed.

  
He goes to the pump and starts cranking it, eventually water pours out and he starts drinking from his hands, splashing his face and rubbing his eyes in the process. He’s been having nightmares again; he hates the nightmares.

  
Waking up in the middle of the night, screams piercing the town, body shaking uncontrollably, he doesn't know how to stop it. Well, he knows how to stop them for a while, but not long enough to be happy. The people in the town respect him, he's lived here for a long time and people have learned his name; they treat him like family. They ask if he's doing okay and sometimes drop off bread at his cottage, but he hears them talk.

  
“Did you hear Dennis? He's screaming more often, I think it's because he sleeps alone,” he thinks they laugh at him, give him pity. The local shopkeeper offered him some sleeping drugs, like that would help.

  
_Asshole, I don’t need your city poison._

He doesn't sleep that night, choosing to spend that time perfecting his act. He thinks it's beautiful, the delicate dance between a man and his swords. Every time he starts the dance, he falls into a trance where he dances until he feels bored. He knows others think fondly of the show, he knows spiders are especially fond of the show.

  
He recalls his first mate, it often soothes him when he has night terrors. It was a spider known for her attention to glamor, she allowed many men to come in but was selective enough that she wasn’t known as a prostitute. He wanted his first time to be special, he wanted to show her what he was made of. Her nest resided in a small cave following the creek that was near the town he used to live in with his father.

The townsfolk made rumors that the spider was a real girl who ran off looking for gold. He ignored those stories, they were mostly circulated by youngins who didn’t know right from left. He’d never seen a human girl before so it's hard to imagine one turning into a spider.

  
He remembers fondly of all the time spent researching his prey, books from men who had many mates told of different acts and methods of attracting spiders. Taking up his father’s old cutlasses, he started to practice a dance of twin blades, _“shiny objects will often intrigue younger spiders,”_ he remembers that except. The people loved his act and those same villagers encouraged him to find that girl, so he collected his supplies and set off. He intended to return to the village before night beckoned, so he made a hasty trip to her cave.

  
As he got nearer, the sun illuminated some giant strands of web in his way; not traps, but obstacles. The cave had its exterior littered with white rocks and specks of gold; it would be foolish to try and take her decorations. As he peered into the wide black space, he saw her sleeping on a bed of web. She was oblivious to his intrusion of her domain, _very foolish of her!_

  
“Ahem!”

  
She immediately opened her blue eyes and flashed her sharp teeth. His heart stopped, he  
couldn't move. He always hates this part of his memory, _how could he be such a wimp?_

  
He slowly took out his cutlasses and held them tight, trying to calm himself down. Her eyes dilated, getting wider and smaller, more teeth appeared as some acids dropped from the roof of her mouth. She was ready to eat him, and that realization rushed adrenaline through his bloodstream and into his brain.

He stared intently into her eyes, _“It’s important to keep your eyes on theirs, spiders will often feel a disconnect with their mate if he isn’t constantly giving her attention”_

  
He started to spin the cutlasses, he sharpened them before the trip so they shined an excellent white. They were thrown into the air as he began his dance. As they landed back into his hands he spun them again, keeping the motion of the cutlasses. He would throw them into the air constantly, always touching but never stopping the movement. He kept his eyes on her, as her look of hunger slowly turned into one of intrigue. As he kept dancing, his movements became more rapid and unpredictable; he looked at her and winked, she smiled as her pupils got bigger, showing a beautiful hue of blue.

  
That was a mistake. He missed his cutlass as it slit his cheek. He touched the cut cheek and inspected his hand.

  
Fresh blood.

  
He looked at her, her expression changed

She was moving closer now

  
He allows his right cutlass to stay on the ground as he gyrated his left sword. Like silk, he swerved the sword between his back and neck; slow but methodical. He was his best when one handed. He threw the blade one last time into the air as it landed mere inches away from his face. He stood tall but his body shook with fear, hands twitching, eyes dilating and breath heavy.

  
She kept her bloodthirsty stare, but something moved. She was moving, not towards him, but away from him. He stood there in awe, he actually did it. Her body shifted and allowed herself to be exposed, then lowering her behind to the floor.

  
Dennis started to walk. His feet were light, he slowly lowered his pants but kept them on, his eyes were hypnotized to his prize. For a moment, he wished he would have enjoyed the view for longer, wished the experience was longer. He would be lying if he said that it was bad though.

  
As he quickly shoved himself inwards, his body screamed with ecstasy; all the fear and worry that built inside of him quickly dissipated. For generations, they were taught to fear these giant monsters and only to interact with them in this specific instance, and he was lucky enough to be one of the few who mated. He grabbed her hair tightly as he kept thrusting, gasping for air as his mind filled with dopamine. It wasn’t just warm, it was hot. Every little detail of the experience was glued to his mind, it was a glorious day. But It was over as quickly as it started, he felt his mind go light as his body became soft. His grip on her butt hairs loosened as he had staggered breaths.

  
He wanted to stay longer, _“It’s always important to leave your mate after finishing. Most spiders will spend their time preparing themselves and their home for children, and they’ll see you as a free meal before a father figure”_

  
Quick to leave, he gave her an affirmative pat on the butt and ran off with his cutlasses. Lifting up his pants and putting the cutlasses in his baldric, he ran and laughed. The sun shined a comforting orange as he ran back to the village, laughing all the way. The sun, though dying down, seemed to shine bright in his presence. Once he stepped a few feet into the gravel street of the town, he collapsed. Most everything after that is a haze, but he still finds happiness in his first.

  
He starts to think, and becomes invoked in thought. What is next? He hates this question, because he knows what's next. He’s mated over 10 arachnids now, and knows that his offspring will continue his name, but that doesn't matter. That night, after his first mate, there weren't any nightmares.

  
No grey sea, lifeless beach, giant spider, none of it. He dreamt of an island, the sun always shone there, food was plentiful and the people were happy. When he awoke from his dream, he cried and wanted to go back. Each night, for a week, he dreamed of that place, but each day the island would fade away. Eventually he was back on the beach, and the cycle began again.

Sometimes mating seemed pointless, he was so fixated on the idea of being on that island that he barely even cared. it took him longer to finish and cumming started to lose its satisfaction. On his previous mate, he didn't even get hard when she exposed herself; he had to do a lot of foreplay to survive.

  
He remembers the day when three children walked into town, naked and wet. Not babies, but younger children, maybe around the age of 5 or 6. All three of them were boys. They were quickly clothed and given food; _is that how he was born?_ His father never told him much about his mother or how he came to be.

  
He thinks about life, wonders who his mom is, asks himself why he can’t remember her, or why and when the nightmares began.

  
The sun blinds him, the morning breaks and brings him back to reality. Even though the sun has blinded him, there's something comforting about its warm glow. He seaths his cutlasses and makes his way to the local shop; putting on new clothes beforehand. He needs to buy a new honing stone.

  
There's a familiar weight to his feet as he walks the gravel road, am I getting fat? H e feels his stomach with curiosity, it's flat with some signs of abs. He’s always been slim and sexy, but lately he’s been feeling... old. Either old or fat... both options sound unpleasant.

  
People don't live long in the countryside, getting medicine in any major city is mostly unheard of. There are local doctors, but they can only do so much with herbs and oils. He went to a city once, it was full of grey suits and tall metal buildings. The people never looked happy, never looked real; everything looked and felt bleak.

  
_He hates the cities._

  
He sees the shop out of the corner of his eye and starts thinking about what he needs, he needs to focus on what's important.

—————————————————————

The walls were covered with rope, clothing, bear traps, mostly hunting supplies. Some barrels with what seems to be seed lined the other wall, description and names listed under their respective spots. Miscellaneous stuff covered the ground floor, soap for clothes, thread and needle for sewing, canteens big and small, hammers and nails, bags for carrying meat, and bags for carrying mushrooms. _Who the hell needs a bag for carrying mushrooms?_

  
“Dennis! I like the way you look at bag, but I thought you hated mushrooms!” The loud and joyus voice that called to him was familiar, the shop owner was always kinder to returning customers than newer ones. His voice was thick but always upbeat; he had the soul of a big bear.

“I’m just looking. Who would buy this? Or any of these things? I see no reason for so many bags.”  
“Supply and demand! I read in book that there's always one idiot who buys stupid things, so I sell stupid things! I make money and the idiots stay happy!” The shopkeeper exclaimed. He loved his customers but sometimes his words said otherwise.  
“Since you make stupid things, why not sell spider soap? Stupid product, i'm sure someone would buy!” Dennis chuckled  
“I’m trying to make money, not make murder!” he said, almost insulted  
“You’ve come to buy! Not talk about mushrooms and soap, what do you need?” The shopkeeper talks with cheek and tongue, always smiling and jeering, you almost couldn't hate the guy.

  
“I’ve come to buy a honing stone, but now I see that grey cloak, and I say I’ll take that too!” Dennis has never worn any more than necessary, as long as you have a shirt and pants then you should be fine. But that cloak called to him, he thought of all the tricks he could pull while his body was mostly hidden with that giant cape. Maybe even use it for seducing more spiders.

  
“Look out everyone! Mr high society has rolled in!” He started to laugh, Dennis couldn't help but chuckle too  
“Let us make a deal. I'm willing to give the cloak if you do me a favor, sound good?” The shopkeeper leaned forwards and grinned, he didn't know what he had in mind but it seemed mischievous.  
“Lay it on me!” Dennis sneered

  
“Well I hear rumors, some true some not, they say a special spider lives a few miles from here. Now I won’t say her name, but she's got a yellow raincoat and a kill count in the hundreds.” Dennis knew what he was talking about, Six. The infamous unmatable arachnid, the unkillable beast, the nightmare of youngin’s wet dreams, she's a monster. Legend tells of men who got to mate with her, but those are tall tales. Nobody mated her and lived to tell anyone still alive, as far as people could tell her body count didn't go past the double digits.

  
“Now I've got this beautiful camera, bought it off some schmuck who came from the Pale City, it has 4 shots left in it. After that the stupid thing won't take no more, now here is where we talk business! These rumors tell of where she lives, her house written on a map, now what does this have to do with my camera? Simple! You go to her house, you take her pictures, you come back alive! And you get free cloak!”

  
Dennis took a step back and looked at him crazily. To even be near her nest was a risk in itself, but to take her photo?  
“Wait! I understand it sounds crazy, but look at you! You are experienced! If I asked any youngin, he’d try and get his dick wet before thinking about giving me back my camera! But you, you are different! Listen, I’ve got the map with her place written clear as day, I can trust you! Tell me I can trust you!”

Dennis felt goosebumps perk from his back, his hands felt sweaty as he thought about Six.  
It would be suicide, she could see him, or hear him, or find him, so many things that could go wrong.

  
“I’ll do it, but! I want one more thing!” Dennis replied, shakily “You name it, I’ll probably have it!” The shopkeeper said hastily

  
Dennis pointed past him, a blue brooch sat on the display. Jewelry wasn’t often sold in the countryside. The only places you could reliably get those gems was in cities, but they were so expensive that it was better if you made them yourself. It was the shell of a beetle, blue and white gleaned all around.

  
“I want it, that beetle brooch.”  
The shopkeeper looked back nervously, his grin was sour and his eyes looked around the shop, he was thinking.  
“Okay, but I want a picture of her eyes.”  
“WHAT!?”  
“Deal or no deal?!”  
Dennis muttered under his breath, _fucker..._  
Nobody knew what her eyes looked like, anybody who saw her gaze was already dead.  
“Fine. Give me the camera and map, I'll do it.” Dennis said with frustration, was he really gonna do it?  
“Wait! Every good deal starts with a good handshake!” The shopkeeper extended his arm and smiled.  
Dennis started to hate that grin, but looked into his eyes and forgot of his emotions. He grabbed his palm and shook twice. There was a feeling of uncertainty in the shake, but felt strong enough that you’d think he’d actually do it. _What the hell am I doing?_

  
As he left the shop with camera and map in hand, the day was still young; he felt exhausted. He checked the map on his way back, it would be a two day trip, to and back if the directions don't fail him.

  
He got home and laid his equipment and things on the table. His cottage was nice, you’d enter and see all the memorabilia that was collected over the years sitting on a sleek wooden drawer. A rock to remind him of his first mate, his father’s wedding ring, a spider tooth, sketchy black-and-white photos of him and his old friends. To the right there lies a table with a candle unlit. Next to the table resides a workbench and a kitchen, the kitchen has one function, cook meat. To the left of the drawer was his bed with some clothes ready for use. His house was small but found enjoyment in it, his front yard was where he did most of his exercising and training. Some dummies and weights laid there, always ready for use, but never left unattended for too long. As he laid in bed, he felt a wave of dread wash over him.

  
It wasn't dread, it was water. He opened his eyes only to be blinded by sea water; he was drowning. He frantically pushed himself upwards, kicking his feet as hard as can. His lungs started to burn, he doesn't know if he’ll make it. He starts to choke, he needs to breathe but sucking in water will only make it worse. His neck tightened, his movements became more frantic as his chest started to convulse.

He breathed, water instantly filled his lungs and forced him into a cough, he couldn’t stop coughing; he couldn’t move. His body started spazzing, his eyes opened and saw someone with a tophat. Everything was blurry, he stopped trying as water filled his gut, yet the hand that slowly extended to him gave him hope.

  
He's dragged on land, and starts vomiting immediately. He struggles to breathe as water and mucus leaves his mouth. He looks around, blurried, hoping to see his savior; The beach is empty and the fog obscures whatever he can't see in front of him.

  
“Who's out there?! Please, show yourself! I need help!”

  
He screams but his voice is shrill. He tries to get up but his knees are too weak. He looks back to the sea, it's vast and grey, lifeless and depressing.  
Dennis doesn't see it, but feels it. The breath of something huge is behind him, it's familiar in a way. He turns his head forward to see a pair of brown eyes. Not just eyes, but a body and arms. He can't see her arms but knows that they’re surrounding him.

  
His face lands on the sandy beach as something grabs his right leg, he tries to stand up but he's lifted into the air. She's playing with him, this is some sort of joke to her. She laughs, as his leg is ripped off. He falls to the sand and yells; sounds of crunching and squishing fill the void. He turns around and crawls to the sea, he’d rather drown. It's futile as venom is quickly injected into his other leg, causing him to houl. His voice is broken as the screams continue, quickly turning into sobs of misery. He feels himself being pushed down as his left arm is grabbed. _Please no, not like this._ His left arm is ripped off. He passes out.

  
He falls to the floor of his cottage as his nightmare ends, yelling insanely as he stands up, blood rushing to his brain. He feels dizzy, the world around him is still spinning and he struggles to stand. He makes his way to the kitchen, dizzily hitting the walls of his house while walking. He sits down and looks at the map, he thinks.

  
_This is it. It has to be, if this doesn't fix me then nothing will._

  
He starts packing his gear that night.


	2. Spring and a Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Setting off to get pictures of Six, Dennis finds himself in the belly of the beast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve always imagined Six to have huge human eyes, that goes for all the spiders in this universe.  
> Also! If you see any mistakes in the chapter, don’t be afraid to comment it! I’m always looking to fix my work.

The ground is soft, it rained two days ago and the dirt squishes with each step. The critters are out, small squirrels run past him as the fresh forest comes to life, it's getting warmer. Wildlife here never seems to care about humans, they fear bigger predators. The slow, cold wind flies by, caressing the shrubs and wildflowers; small sounds of eating are heard, rabbits wake to eat and find fun. Dennis doesn't care much for the wild, but observing the details of the forest always calms him down.

  
He’s been walking, his feet feel somewhat sore but he doesn't mind it, his shoes are sturdy. The path taken to Six is somewhat familiar, it only seems to diverge 8 miles out. He's been on this trail before, sometimes to visit friends in other towns, or to find a new mate when his nightmares get too unbearable. He brought a few things, trail mix, a hunter's knife, a full canteen, the map to Six’s lair, and the camera. He keeps an eye out, maybe if he’s lucky he can grab some meat for the road, rabbits are always so oblivious to humans.

  
The path diverges at a large tree, cut in half with scars of a battle running down its body. He's never seen this tree before, it's terribly old and has some fungus growing near its base.

  
It reminds him of his first arachnid kill. She lived on the lam, people wanted her dead as she fled through the forest, sleeping in trees. How did he know this? He met her on one. He was walking when he heard her snarl loudly. He didn't know she was there, not until she was 10 feet away from him. She had multiple swords and arrows in her, even having an arrow lodged in her eye. He tried his dance, but she didn't have patience. He ran, she followed in close pursuit, constantly slashing at trees as he hid in old logs. She was obviously tired and weak, deprived of food too, if she was ready and strong then he wouldn't have lasted. He found the upper hand though, stabbing his cutlass into her upper chest; she collapsed and struggled to move. He took his other cutlass and jabbed it into her back, causing a screech of pain. She died moments later. On the walk back home, a group of several men stopped him; Dennis was quick to show them the tooth taken from her mouth. A trophy for his accomplishment; his name was quickly spread around.

  
He noticed something different about the land here, webs were common and blood was often smeared on them. The smell was unbearable, it wasn't just blood; other juices were left here. It was vile, the sweat of those who struggled, and piss of those who didn't. He tried to cut the webs in his way, but after two minutes of constant sawing on a single barrier, he took his chances to find a way around. It wasn't just web and broken trees, there was ash. The dirt was coarse and some trees looked black, like a war started and never ended.

  
Whenever he had to stop for the night on a long trek, he’d usually sleep in a tree, away from the bugs and critters on the ground; he couldn't stay here safely. Whatever trees remained were giant, clearly older than him and able to withstand the worst weather. Some bodies remained, legs and chunks of meat laid astrew, consumed by maggots and flies, some body parts didn't even look human. And then he saw it, the funnel.

  
The entrance was huge and-

_Are those spiders?_

Three giant spiders laid near the entrance, blood spewing from them and stench filling the air. There were no maggots and some flies. Was... this recent?

  
His head went dizzy, who knows how recent this is? A day ago? An hour? Here he is, knee deep in her territory and here lies three of the most dangerous predators, dead. If he left now, he could probably get somewhere safe before the sun sets, but if he gave her time to recover... ideas and theories rushed through his mind, but he couldn’t come home empty handed.

  
He could scope around her nest, hoping to find an angle where he could take the photos safely, but there's no way he’d get a picture of her eyes if he didn’t go all in. He felt the web before considering walking through, it wasn't as sticky or strong as some of the trapped web farther out; it felt like silk, he could sleep on it if he wanted too. The sun still stood strong, but if he hesitated then night would come sooner than expected.

  
He took off his bag and brought his knife and camera, trying to be as light as possible. As he walked through the tunnel, bugs and small mammals covered the path. He had seen so much death that he was barely fazed, but the smell still made his gut wrench. The funnel was large, allowing easy access in and out of the web, a double sided sword; Six could easily climb through here, and he’d be defenseless. Finally, the tunnel ended and gave way to a giant web, held together by thick trees; a misstep could have him falling deep into the web’s bottom. And at the bottom she sat.

  
The air was still, his body was frozen as she laid there. She made some movement, but it wasn't eating. He listened in hopes to hear some eating, but nothing, only the heavy and labored breaths of Six. Could she be sleeping? No, there's no way she’s made it this far and be this infamous if she slept on every newcomer; unless it was a trap. He stayed near the exit, not trying to make any advances forward, he liked his odds far away from her. Could she have children? It's possible, but aren't babies supposed to snore and cry? Nothing made sense, everything felt off as he looked around the web.

  
There was blood, very fresh, it trailed all the way down to her bed. Some of the web were sliced, with no real sense to the cuts made. There seemed to be a tear on one side of the web, it was giant and blood was highlighting its existence. There could’ve been a fight, maybe she was attacked by multiple men or the three spiders outside. But she's so strong, she probably did it without breaking a sweat, only sleeping to recover her strength.  
He drew the camera and pointed it at her, he somewhat understood how the thing worked.

He pressed the button on the side near it's lens.

A click is heard as the camera flashes light, afterwards making busy noises as a polaroid comes out of the bottom, finishing with a high pitched ding. The polaroid was caught and put in a safe place.

  
He kept his hands still and hoped to get one more photo before running, it sounded suicidal but he had to get the job done. Her yellow eyes pierced into his soul, there was no intrigue or anger, there was only hatred. He took another picture. She started to move

  
But stopped mere moments afterwards.

  
He looked in horror as fresh blood gushed from one of her arms, she could barely move. She had been injured, immobilized even. She gazed back at him, her expression didn't change as she showed her teeth in retaliation to his presence. He took his two pictures and ran, almost falling over as the web caught him on the retreat. He got back up and sprinted out of the funnel, grabbing his bag from the entrance and running; he didn't even try and put his bag back onto his back. The sun started to fade as he sprinted across the dead forest, night soon coming into view.

  
The moonlight brought safety as he made it back to the broken tree. He collapsed near it and struggled to move, his entire body was shaking as he breathed rapidly. He felt terrible, his stomach ached as his mind was racing.  
 _What if she's following you? It could’ve been a joke, she could be playing with you and you don't even realize it. There could be more spiders coming to take her place, and you're on the road to her place. They'll eat you and won't even think twice, why are you laying down? You need to run._  
He vomited onto the tree as he passed out on a bed of fungi.

  
His eyes slowly opened as daylight blinded him. The sun comforted him as he stood up. He put his bag around his neck and walked along the path he so faintly rememberd. He didn't have a nightmare, or a dream; he simply slept. He didn't feel refreshed or relaxed, but his mind was at ease. The smell of death slowly faded as the smell of wet dirt and oak filled his nostrils, but his paranoia didn't fade.

  
The sounds of rabbits and small critters filled his ears, and his mind went back into panic mode. He drew his knife and looked around, delirious and terrified.  
 _That little knife won't do anything to a full sized spider, they could grab you and eat you in a second flat. Just run, run! Why are you still standing still? Are you stupid? Do you want to die?_   
He ran again, following the trail and closing his eyes.

  
The world around him was still and quiet, most everything in the area kept a safe distance from the crazed photographer. Eventually he stopped and took a breather, If he kept up this pace he’d probably pass out to exhaustion.

He sat by an oak tree and grabbed some nuts from his bag, chewing them slowly. He also grabbed his canteen and took a sip, the water wasn't cold which upset Dennis. He remembered getting cold water from the stream, so why wasn’t it cold? He hates boring-lukewarm-salty water.

  
He goes to put away the canteen but sees one of the pictures peeking from inside the bag. He grabs it and looks for a moment; he starts crying. Is this his worth as a man? He risked his life for a stupid cape and a rock, if she wasn’t injured then we would’ve been eaten instantly. In a fit of rage he grabs the camera and smashes it against his knee, throwing it into the forest without a second to spare.

—————————————————————

  
He didn't realize he was back in the village until he heard the shopkeeper yelling at him. His mind was adrift, his legs moving on their own. Dennis looked at the shopkeeper with a blank stare, he had forgotten why he was even walking. He was ushered into the shop and given a place to sit, food and water was shoved into his hands.

  
“You are alive, tell me the good news!” The shopkeeper looked agitated, hands shaking and voice tense.  
“...”  
“F... fuck... fuck you...”  
Dennis pulled the two photos out of his bag and handed them to the now shocked shopkeeper. He took them and yelled in glee, hugging Dennis and grabbing his items  
“You can have one of everything! You crazy bastard! No need to tell me the story, I take pictures with no questions asked!”

  
Dennis took the cloak, brooch, and stone and left; he left his bag without realizing it. The walk home was miserable, his legs could barely take anymore use. He entered his cottage and immediately went to the bed, but not sleeping. He waited a bit, recalling the entire adventure as he caressed the beetle brooch. He finally accepted victory and slept.

  
He tried to get up but found himself tied up, he was in a web. He looked around, his head was stuck so there wasn't much to be seen; the icey grey fog still persisted. The web started to move as someone came to him, not someone, _Six._

  
She stood over him, her yellow raincoat being a dramatic parallel to the grey he had seen so many times in his nightmares, eventually showing her face. It wasn’t the same as he remembered, her hair was slick and eyes were green. No blood in the web, no knots or messy hair, no pain or tired expression in her eyes, no hatred in those terrifying eyes, it wasn't her.

  
She grinned as her tongue extended out of her mouth and caressed his chest, her slimy tongue was unsettling and the little bits of acid dropping from her mouth made that worse; he was naked for some odd reason.  
“You're not Six...”  
She snarled as her sharp index finger stabbed his stomach, the pain feeling all too familiar. He tried to keep conscience and stared deep into her eyes

“You can try and scare me, but I’ve looked death in the eyes and laughed! You're just some bitch who thinks she can haunt me!”  
His arms were ripped off. He gasped as she ate his limbs, his vision blurred as blood dripped onto his eyes; he passed out.

  
He woke up, but only laid there. No yelling, no awful headache, no heart racing, no fear. Relief washed over him, like he fought a long battle and won, the night was still young and there was no way he was going back to sleep, but he felt changed; things are changing.


	3. The Black Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Beware of the man who has nothing to lose... for he has only to gain.”

It was a new day, and Dennis was ready to make changes. He went straight to the shop, he had to retrieve his belongings. This morning, the forest around him seemed calmer, the wind was weaker and the sun dawned on his new cloak. He would be lying if he said that he didn't feel and look badass. The cloak enveloped him whole, he wore shorts as the cloak extended to his feet. He didn't wear the whole thing though, he wanted to keep his face public; he liked how chiseled his jaw was.

  
He walked into the shop and wasted no time getting his bag. It was already sitting on the counter, but before he could grab it the shopkeeper interrupted him.  
“Hey! It is good to see you! But where is camera?”  
“I destroyed it.”  
“What?! That was mine! I spent a fortune getting the thing! I was going to buy more tape for pictures of other things!”  
“The camera gave me away instantly, It shined a bright light and she tried to kill me!”  
“I don’t remember leaving that on... but you lived? She saw you?”  
Dennis growled and pulled his bag from the hands of the keeper. He looked inside and saw his essentials, even the map was still there  
“I don’t want to keep the map, why is it still here?”  
“Well, I can't sell map. Remember? I sell for money, not murder.”  
Dennis glared at him then left with the map, tightening the bag before leaving so nothing would fall out.

  
He returned to his cottage to leave his bag and grab his cutlasses, he left right afterwards. He went to the local pub for directions. As he entered the smell of alcohol attacked his senses, he hasn't been in a pub for two years and tried very hard to get over his alcohol addiction. He saw an old friend, seemed to be asleep on the counter as a few other patrons chatted with the bartender. The bartender called to him, “You coming for a drink or to rob the place? Judging from that cloak I'd say you’re here to do both!” He chuckled to himself as the other four patrons gave him a glance.

  
He sat himself next to his sleeping friend, enjoying his company, somewhat.  
“I’m here for directions, I want to get to the sea creek but I forgot which trail to take.”

  
“You must be livin under a rock to forget where the creek is”  
“As if! You’re forgetting your name every other day!  
“I don't need to know my name to get fresh water, with a cloak like that I’d assume ‘yer a stranger from some city! You grey sticks need to get a drink sometime, don't you know that?” The patrons chattered amongst themselves, occasionally giving words to Dennis but never inviting him to the conversation. Eventually the bartender returned from, wherever he went, and handed him a map.

  
“There's always a lot to remember nowadays, it ain't no surprise that some places look all too similar. I always have more ready in case travelers need a hand. Might I recommend a drink?”

“Thanks, but I’m two years sober. If Charles here wakes up, tell him Dennis said hi, can you do that for me?”  
“If he wakes up.”  
The two exchanged nods and Dennis walked off with the map, reading it's directions.

  
It wasn't long before the sounds of sloshing water and moving currents drew near, he had found the creek. It always moved downwards, some rumored that the current went into the sea; today we wanted to find out if that was true. He walked down the creek, looking at the world around him. He killed an arachnid and met one of the deadliest one's known to man, and here he was, walking around as if he owned the world. He smiled, humble or not, he found happiness in the fact that his life wasn’t burdened by anything.

  
While he walked he remembered his old job. He was younger when he worked, most youngins got jobs before they realized what money was. Even though most things were trades or dealt in deals, more important things like swords and tools required coins. Making coins was almost impossible, as specific forms of currency were relegated to each region and their merchants. The coins here were standard gold coins, really made out of painted silver, but had 3 small markings in the middle to show it was legit.

  
A set amount of coins are made in each region, and the distributing of these coins is relegated to the businesses. He asked the local pub owner for a job, and told him to catch fish for his Sunday night fish special. He was given a spear, a bucket, and three days to catch fish, so he went to this same creek and spent all three days getting fish. He gave all the fish to the pub owner and got 10 coins, enough money to buy a week's worth of food if rationed. He did this for an entire year, some weeks he had to catch rabbits, others birds, at the end of the day he got good at it.

  
He was always attentive at the creek, his eyes catching any fish swimming by, he liked his job. He had other jobs, maintaining the shop, cleaning old houses for new families, finding herbs for the doctors, keeping watch for animals during winter, all of which made money. He had more than enough coins to last, and felt as if working was pointless at his somewhat old age. His father died when he was 37, and now that he was 29, 30 in February, he felt a little worried.

  
The smell of salt hit his nostrils as the trees and wildlife slowly started to disappear. He looked around as sand soon started to appear, then it revealed itself. The vast open sea.

  
It was jarring, no fog, no grey, no death, just blue skies and yellow sandy land. It took him a moment to adjust to the land around him, taking in the view and relaxing himself. So long he dreaded this place, and now he was here, and everything was different.

  
He took off his clothes and shoes, slowly walking into the water, no sharp rocks, hell even the water was freezing cold. Everything was different, but it was nice. He let his body drift in the open sea as his eyes looked upwards, enjoying the beautiful sky.

He laid in the water for a long time, he grew comfortable with the smell of salt and got over the freezing temperature of the water. After a while he felt some small fishes touch his body, probably interested in him. Eventually swam back to the shore, put on his clothes and looked back out to the sea. For so long he dreaded the ocean, this beach haunted him for years and now...

  
He feels a little older now, like he met an old friend for the first time.

  
He had to do one last thing before returning home, so he returned to the creek and went upstream.

  
Before long, his surroundings become familiar. Those boulders he faintly remember emitted a sense of nostalgia as they are now covered in moss, the trees in the area have grown and old apples lay astrew in the perimeter. And then he saw it, _her cave._ It was strange, all the webs that existed before seemed to be gone, even all the rocks and gold that littered the entrance disappeared. It was like her presence wasn't even there, _maybe she moved?_

  
He hoped not, that would be annoying, if he came all the way here and she just left. He came here for one reason: reunite with an old friend.

  
He walked to the cave and peered inside, the smell of death was strong, which confirmed his suspicions that she was still there. He whistled and drew his cutlasses, waiting patiently; he kept his ears open in case she appeared behind him. Silence.  
“Hey! Wake up!”

  
Silence.

  
He turned around and looked at the area around him, everything is older now, yet it felt untouched. He walked deeper into the cave, it wasn't terribly deep but was far enough in that the light was thin on the walls. The smell got worse as he kept walking, this was a terribly stupid idea but he didn't care, he needed closure.

  
Then he saw it.

  
Her disfigured corpse laid there, one arm was left half eaten on a rock nearby her body, her body had a giant hole near her back and only 2 arms remained attached to her; one of her eyeballs was pulled out of its socket and stood a few inches away, it's blue pupil now faded to a dull grey.

  
The blood, old and ugly, was splattered on the walls of the cave, and a pool of it surrounded her lifeless body. There were no maggots, no flies, not even fungi, some bone appeared visible through the blood and gapes in her corpse. He stood there, and felt tears swelling up; _was he crying? Over some girl he mated over five years ago?_

Yes, yes he was. He fell onto the ground as the waterworks opened, all the love and happiness found from his memory of her was gone, she was gone. He honestly came here to kill her, but now that he saw her dead... It broke him. There seemed to be little sign of struggle, _the dumb bitch was probably asleep when she was killed._

  
He got up, tears in eyes and walked off, putting away his cutlasses; he got confirmation but wished he never did.

  
The walk back through the creek was unpleasant, he just kept thinking about her. There was nothing he could’ve done, and yet he felt guilty all the same. He wanted to go back, bury her or cry more, but he pushed those emotions deeper within himself as he kept walking. He found his way back to the village and to his cottage. The day was older now, the sun was fading but tried to keep its hold of the world for just a little longer.

  
He went inside and took off all his clothes, then promptly laid in bed. He took his many blankets and wrapped himself tightly, trying to ignore the cold; he was going to win today.

  
He woke up on a beach, the sand and air were all too familiar. He got up and looked to the sea, and saw a boat, smoke pumped from its exhaust but nobody looked to be on board. He looked around the beach, hoping to hear something or someone, but it was quiet.

  
He walked towards the unknown, the fog always tried to make him afraid of going beyond; not anymore. He heard something, the tapping of the ground was frantic as whatever was coming was agitated, but he kept walking. He felt it breathing down his neck, sometimes it would drag it's claw down his back; he kept walking. Eventually he found a cave, not hers, but a home for another. He walked in as the fog cleared.

  
And there he stood, his father. Wearing a dapper brown suit and a similar hat, he was sitting in a nice mahogany wooden chair drinking tea. He looked at his son as Dennis stood still, confused.  
“Ah, I didn’t expect to see you so soon, your mother will be returning shortly.”

  
He looked out to the entrance of the cave as a spider stood there, for a moment he wanted to see her. That was a short lived feeling as she was quickly pounced on, rolling away from the entrance. Dennis ran outside to see the spider being eaten by another spider, one wearing a yellow raincoat.  
 _No_  
She turned around and attacked immediately.

  
He woke up yelling, not of fear but of anger. She took his family away from him, she ruined his chance at being over his nightmares, she ruined everything!

  
He got up, put on fresh black clothes and wore his cloak again. He went into his kitchen and ate like an animal, eating all the meat he had, cooked or not. He took his cutlasses and hid them in the belt fastened around his waist, the cloak obscuring them. Before he left the house he turned around, and looked at the beetle on display. Its blue and white shine called to him, and he pinned it to his cloak.

  
His feet felt no pain, his mind had no thoughts, and his body resisted nothing, but his heart was full of rage. As he kept walking through the forest, there was an ill omen hanging around him. He had one goal in mind: swoon Six and kill her. The moonlight guided him to her nest, his memory of her route was still fresh. Before he went into her territory, he marked his initials onto the old dead wood.

  
 **D.** **W** **.**

  
It wasn't long before the three giant spiders laid before him, now infested with maggots and flies. He ignored their rotting corpses and climbed up the funnel, struggling slightly. He reached the top and noticed how different it was, things changed a bit since the last time he was here.

  
He slapped his hand on the top to gain enough control to get inside. Then he saw her, she didn't look terrible, but still seemed to be struggling to get back on her feet. He walked towards her before bowing eloquently; _“If you're trying to seduce an older spider, it's best if you make your appearance eloquent and formal, older ladies love a gentleman.”_

  
She seemed to show appeal in his performance, and so he began. He took out his cutlasses and started to dance without a second thought. All the emotions that were pent up released as his swords flew through the air, he didn't care about keeping his eyes on her, he wanted to dance. He moved from place to place, swords flying and swinging around as he kept his focus on making the show as entertaining as possible. He heard her sigh, maybe she was getting bored, he tried even harder.

  
He looked over, hoping that she was watching, and then it hit him. She wasn't looking at all, she was looking at something else, _was it a child? No, she would've been more protective, or they would’ve died during the battle when she was injured!_

  
Then he saw him. A single man jeering with Six, seemingly chatting.

  
He couldn't believe his sight, he was taken back as he recoiled, he felt embarrassment, anger,  
confusion, jealousy, he was stupefied.

  
“What in the Gods’ names are you doing?!” He shouted, he couldn't think of doing anything else.  
The little man stared at him with embarrassment, like a child who was caught stealing

  
“Um...”  
“Get out of there you - how are you even still alive?!”

Then fog surrounded him. Suddenly and quickly, he tried to step back but was stuck in place. He looked around, and saw himself on the beach.

  
“It's time to go, honey”

  
He looked behind him as a giant spider stood there, her voice was soft and had eyes of comfort. The same lady who haunted his dreams, the same woman who inflicted pain onto him for years stood in front of him, and it was his mother. She looked so pretty, and young, like she could do no harm to him.

  
“Come on now, your father is waiting.”

  
She extended her hand as he looked out to the sea, there was one person on the ship now, they were wearing a tophat. He took one of her giant fingers and slowly followed her. He heard something behind him, he looked away from the ship and back to the beach to see a man being eaten.

  
_Crunch._

  
His body dangled, twitching and bleeding from Six’s mouth. Like a still image, he stared at himself for a long time. It was odd, he looked so silly wearing that cloak.

  
“Come on Dennis, ride my back and we’ll make it to the boat.”

  
Dennis looked back at his mom as she lowered herself to the ground, he promptly got on top of her and watched his mother walk into the sea. The boat got closer, and his father extended his hand for him to grab onto. He was pulled up and onto the boat, and looked at his father with sorrow.

  
“I must say son, you chose a wonderful cloak to die in.”

  
He looked down, his beetle brooch and cloak were still on, he didn't seem to mind very much, it was quite comfortable.  
“Thanks dad, you also look pretty good.”

  
His mother climbed out of the water and onto the ship, a loud whistle was heard as the boat started to move. He looked back to the beach, all the memories of him being eaten and mutilated came back to him. It felt jarring, of all the painful ways he died on that beach, he died the most peaceful death. Six kept eating his body, his cutlasses fell to the ground as she consumed him whole.

  
Slowly the beach was obscured by fog, and as Dennis looked onwards with his family, he felt a familiar feeling of comfort. The fog was cleared as he saw an island, his mother and father held his hand as they looked towards the rising sun.

There's something comforting about the sun that he can't describe, but he doesn't need to. He smiles, maybe things are better this way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps in a different time, Dennis would find peace and the truth. But here? He only finds himself as a vessel.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the story!


End file.
